


The Inspection

by ummmmm (sumhowe_sailing)



Series: In all the galaxies... [2]
Category: EOS 10 (Podcast), The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: idk dude this is just nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 23:12:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14091777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumhowe_sailing/pseuds/ummmmm
Summary: Set in the "Of All the Gim-Jahk Joints" verse - while wandering around EOS 10, Peter meets someone interesting in the kitchen.





	The Inspection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steampunkgirl198](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunkgirl198/gifts).



It wasn’t that he had anything against the kitchens, they turned out some fairly decent food all things considered, it was just that he hadn’t been bothered to scout them out yet. There were always so many other more interesting places to be and things to do. Yesterday he’d watched two creatures of species he’d never even heard of get into a telepathic fight that paralyzed all the bystanders within ten yards--and the day before that he’d seen an unfathomably beautiful flower bud and blossom and wither away in hardly more than a minute in the arboretum. How could food preparation possibly compare to that? That in mind, he didn’t quite know _why_ he felt drawn to the kitchens today, just that as he’d been wandering the fourth level promenade, he suddenly decided he needed to see them. So, here he was, winding his way surreptitiously through clouds of steam and staff too busy to look twice at him.

Or so he thought. But then a timid voice at his elbow asked in painfully polite tones who he was and what he was doing there.

“Are you addressing me, monsieur?” Peter asked in arch tones, hoping to simply scare the man away.

“Of course.”

“Don’t you know who I am? And yet you have the impudence to—“

“Don’t _you_ know who _I_ am?” The man responded sharply.

“I haven’t the slightest notion, nor would I care to—“

“ _I_ am Arule Delatro Leviathan the third, 82 nd Prince of the High Command of Hellesonky, Protector of the Sacred Azmuthian Bones, and Heir to the Diamond Throne.”

“You expect me to believe that you’re a prince? And, what, walking around in a dirty apron as a fashion statement?”  
“I was deposed. I am working in these kitchens until I can return to Aryan Seven and reclaim my throne, and I won’t have my work here destroyed by the likes of _you_.”

“Your work? And what is that, washing dishes?”

“I’ll have you know that I am the saucier!”

“Not even a chef,” Peter sniffed. A look of pure rage flashed across the man’s face, then quickly disappeared again behind the polite mask he’d been wearing. The transformation was so quick it was almost impressive; Peter had to hand it to him, he was certainly more than met the eye. In spite of his anger, the deposed prince responded calmly.

“I may not be a chef yet, but it’s only a matter of time.” Then, under his breath, the man added darkly, “They have to expose their weaknesses sooner or later.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at the implied threats in that aside. He wasn’t sure if the prince would actually be able to follow through—he certainly didn’t look like he could do much harm—but then, this man was certainly full of surprises.

“Are you here to take over one of the chef’s job?” The prince asked suddenly, as though it had just occurred to him that this would be a plausible reason for Peter’s presence in the kitchen. “Because I warn you,” he added, “I will stop at nothing to become head chef and if you get in my way, well, on your own head be it.”

“And why,” Peter asked, incredulous, “would I want to be a chef?”

“Why else would you be here?”

“I’m a health inspector.” He hadn’t planned to turn this into one of his games, but if he was going to toy with anyone today, at least this man would make it fun.

“A health inspector?” He was clearly taken aback—but not displeased. “Are you really?”

“Do I like the sort of man who would lie to you?”

“Ah, of course not,” the deposed prince said. Peter wasn’t quite sure, but he thought he _winked_ as he said it. How cheeky.

“Now, since you’ve wasted so much of my time, perhaps you could help me make up the difference by showing me around?”

“Are you new to this station, Mr.--?”

“Doumer. I suppose if we’re talking trivialities, you ought to tell me what to call you. There simply isn’t enough time in the day to address you by the full title every time.”

“My friends call me Levi.”

“I am emphatically _not_ your friend, but ‘Levi’ will have to do. Now, let’s start with your station. Show me everything, my inspection has to be thorough.”

“Ah, yes, your _inspection_. Right this way.”

It was obvious Levi didn’t believe him—and yet he seemed happy to play along. He wasn’t sure why, or what Levi’s endgame might be, but he’d committed himself and now he had to play the part. He began surreptitiously checking his pocket for any writing instruments or paper—he wished desperately he had a clipboard—but only found a purple gel pen and a couple old doodles. He decided to use them for taking ‘notes’ anyway, thinking with all the steam in here most people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Levi showed him the sauce station, boasting about the cleanliness and the high standards he held for everything he produced there.

“Not like the pastry chef, mind you,” Levi said solemnly, “He seems to have no appreciation whatsoever for the finer details of the craft. It’s all about the quantity with him, not the quality.”

“Perhaps you should show me to his station next.”

“I’d be delighted.”

 

As they moved from one station to the next, Levi introducing him as “Mr. Doumer, the health inspector,” and reveling in the panicked looks on each chef’s face, it became clear why he was so happy to play along. If he was looking for weaknesses in his superiors, this was certainly a good way to find them. Small comments on the cleanliness of each station, a hasty note scribbled as he shook his head, and everyone bought Peter’s latest ploy hook, line, and sinker. Everyone but Levi, who was delightedly adding to the charade with his own observations and planting seeds of doubt and discord among the staff as Peter examined their spaces.

When Levi ran out of coworkers to terrorize, he escorted Peter back to the door.

“I hope your tour of the kitchens was satisfactory?”

“Hmmm. I’m not sure I’d go so far as that.”

“Well, if there are any changes you feel it necessary to make in the staff roster, I hope you’ll remember my eager compliance with your intrusion. _Inspection_. With your inspection.”

Peter couldn’t help it—he smiled. “Yes, I will bear it in mind. Thank you, Levi. Good day.”

“Good day! Adieu! Aufwiedersehen!” Peter left while the deposed prince was still calling his farewells after him. What a strange man. And how fortunate that all his energies were bent on the destruction of the other chefs—who knows what someone like him could do if he really dreamed big? It had certainly been worth the trip to the kitchen after all.


End file.
